Fight Song

And all those things I didn't say

Wrecking balls inside my brain

I will scream them loud tonight

Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my fight song

Take back my life song

Prove I'm alright song

My power's turned on

Starting right now I'll be strong

I'll play my fight song

And I don't really care if nobody else believes

'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me

-Rachel Platten, Fight Song

I have this habit of listening to the same songs over and over. I fill up a play list with my favorite songs of the moment. I listen, until even I can’t bear to hear the same songs on repeat one more time. Currently, one of the songs on my repetitive play list of favorites is, Fight Song, by Rachel Platten. Every time I hear this song, I can’t help but stop whatever I am doing and sing at the top of my lungs. I also will stop when Watch Me comes on and do my own version of the Whip/Nae Nae, using my arms for the Stanky Legg and Break Your Legs part. I am extremely grateful I only live with a dog most of the time. 

A few days ago, my friend was here with me. He constructed a few fantastic improvements to my home, planted a tree, and, naturally, I turned on my fantastic play list to help with morale. Well, to be perfectly truthful, I turned on the same play list several times...all in one day. Anyway, as he was sawing wood for a little ramp so I could finally get out to my deck, he asked, very nicely, if I had any other songs because he heard Fight Song just one too many times that day. And because I live alone and really have grown accustomed to having things my own way, I just added a few more songs to my famous play list; instead of deleting any of them

Later that night, this friend and I prepared a quick dinner together. While we were heating up leftover Garlic Potato soup and steaming an artichoke, we also talked about some pretty hard stuff. Stuff like my situation and circumstances and where I am now and where I was when I was first paralyzed. One simple statement led to the next, and as I do, I started hysterically and unreasonably crying. And because my friend is so sweet, he immediately sat on the floor and pulled my chair over to him forcing me to stop what I was doing and look right at him and just cry and talk through the tears. But, I wasn’t able to talk. I kept crying and crying and trying to talk. Not even wiping my nose with the rough paper towels could stop me. 

And for the record, I have no idea what he said or what I said that actually triggered the tears and hysterics. The words and uncontrollable emotion just poured out of me. However, what I do remember is that I started listing the methods and avenues and moments of strength I seized over the last fifteen years. I told him I was so alone and kept fighting anyway. I told him I was so sick and kept fighting anyway. I told him I wanted to give up every single day and kept fighting anyway. I shared the time I went to a doctor who told me I was better off dead and instead of leaving the office defeated, I continued to fight for a doctor who would keep me alive. I cried and listed my moments of strength, not my moments of weakness.

And when this crying fit was over, I realized, for the first time, I listed my strengths and only my strengths. I wrote my very own Fight Song. Maybe it is because I hear the song over and over in my house as I fold laundry or do the dishes or clean the bathroom. I don’t know. All I know, is out of no where, I chose to see all of the times I showed up for me, instead of all of the times I failed me. 

After I calmed down and we finally ate dinner and I went to bed, I fell asleep strong. I knew I still had weakness to overcome; weakness that may never go away. But, I wrote my Fight Song. I proved I was alright song. 

What if we all wrote a Fight Song. I don’t mean in a corny way; I mean in a real way. What if we all wrote down the moments we were brave and strong and scared and did it anyway. What if we just focused on this part of ourselves, the strong part, instead of all of the times we fell or disappointed or ran from something out of fear and shame. Just what if. We all have a Fight Song in us. We all have a take back my life song and we are all sending big waves into motion. It doesn’t matter our story or our weight class. We all showed up for a fight and chose to be strong. I suggest we focus on that part of ourselves a little bit more. So when the nay sayer part of us shows up, the part that feels she has fallen just one to many times to recover, we can sing our own Fight Song and belt it out and the top of our lungs. And, the best part is, we have the freedom to play our song on repeat as many times as we like...it’s our song.